


In My Veins

by riverofyou



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Drabble, Kissing, M/M, Reminiscing, Soulmates, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-07-22
Packaged: 2019-06-14 13:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15389409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/riverofyou/pseuds/riverofyou
Summary: Brendon is just... part of him, in his veins. His soulmate, Ryan is convinced. His soulmate. In his veins. And Ryan couldn't get him out even if he wanted to.





	In My Veins

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the Andrew Belle song.

If you cut Ryan open, ripped him neatly, peeled his skin and bone back to expose his insides, his soul, you'd see Brendon.

Brendon is just... part of him, in his veins. His soulmate, Ryan is convinced. His soulmate.

In his veins. And Ryan couldn't get him out even if he wanted to. 

They're kissing, slowly and languidly, and there's a dreamy sort of heat coursing through Ryan's body. There's no rush, no wild desire, no wanton need. Just lips and smooth skin and love. 

There's so much love. 

Brendon pulls away, kissing along Ryan's jaw, then down to the hollow of his throat, and along his collarbones. "I love you," He breathes, soft and sweet and gentle, and Ryan closes his eyes. "I love you too." He replies. Brendon presses kisses to his closed eyelids, giggling softly, and Ryan relishes the sound, so unique and so, so beautiful. He's so lucky he gets to hear that sound, every single day. 

"You know how people say that laughter is the best medicine?" Ryan asks dreamily, and Brendon nods, pausing the kisses and meeting Ryan's eyes, whiskey on bitter chocolate. "Well, I think your laughter is my medicine."

Brendon's cheeks redden slightly, and he laughs, shaking his head. Ryan likes that, that Brendon still blushes when Ryan compliments him. It's like they're still tiny teenaged boys writing Fever, exchanging kisses in the studio when no one was looking. 

On nights like these, time simply cannot touch them.

On nights like these, they're young again.


End file.
